


Divergence

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Adult Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6505897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set immediately after "Unity".<br/>Originally written in 2005. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact.<br/>Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is PG-13 for adult themes.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Divergence

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after "Unity".  
> Originally written in 2005. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact.  
> Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is PG-13 for adult themes.

Kathryn paused just inside the doorway to the observation lounge, hearing the soft hiss as the panel shut behind her.

There were clues to Chakotay's mood in the dimness of the lights, the tension in broad shoulders silhouetted against the streaking stars. 

He didn't turn to acknowledge her presence. She wasn't sure if he didn't want to talk to her, or simply hadn't noticed her arrival.

"Chakotay." She let her voice precede her across the room, fair warning and worried inquiry both. Along the way she debated what to do: How close to get, what tack to take.

It had always been a delicate dance between them: A friendship that had at times held a hint of the possibility of more.

And once, on a deserted planet almost a year behind them now, there was much more than a hint. A declaration couched in an ancient legend brought the possibility so much closer to reality.

At the time, she wasn't sure how she felt about the possibility, or the declaration. And she never dared allow herself to find out. By choosing a discretion that had nothing at all to do with valor, she weighted the situation with regulation and protocol, let it all sink back into the sea of what might have beens.

She'd reached Chakotay's side by now, shooting a glance at his shadowed profile. Before hesitation could become reluctance she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I just finished reading your report, and came to see how you were doing."

One dimple flashed, but his grin held no mirth. "I suppose you could say I'm still assimilating the experience."

Kathryn admitted, "I have no idea what it was like for you..." And it was the truth, literally. What more could she say?

She let her hand fall away as Chakotay turned to face her and said, "It's hard for me to wrap my head around it---and I was actually there."

He shook his head slowly, musing. "The voices are fading, but the memories...I've been a woman, an old man...I still hear echoes of alien languages I shouldn't understand..."

He swallowed. "I feel the pain of losing parents, lovers, children that aren't my own. I know the scents and flavors of foods I've never tasted. I can recall sunsets on worlds I've never seen. I lived in their skins, breathed with them, knew their thoughts..."

After a moment he continued, "The strangest thing about this, Kathryn, is how much better I understand you."

She frowned, confused. "What do you mean, Chakotay?"

"Seska should have taught me this lesson already, but I've always been a stubborn SOB." He sighed. "What Riley did...I thought I *knew* her---hell I *was* her for a little while. I don't think I'll ever be closer to anyone else in my life. And still she didn't hesitate to use me for her own ends."

His eyes searched hers. "That's what you've always been afraid of, isn't it? That you'd let me in, let me get close, and then one day find out I've betrayed you."

Kathryn glanced down. She could list a dozen other reasons, regulations and protocols included, but they would merely be camouflage. Yes, Chakotay did understand exactly what she was afraid of.

Some people might have said her wariness was nothing more than cowardice. But she bet they had never experienced how much it hurt when the knife slid into your back, as deep as the betrayal.

As deep as the trust that has been betrayed.

No, it wasn't cowardice. Making a hard choice never is.

But did Chakotay really mean what he seemed to be saying? She didn't know. And if he did, she didn't know how she felt about it. "You seem to have had quite an epiphany."

"More like a change of perspective." His voice was as soft as the touch of his hand on her chin as he lifted her face to his gaze once more.

Kathryn thought she was reading the truth in his earth-dark eyes---resignation and resolution. But she had to be sure. "You once told me a story about a warrior who found peace in another. Have you lost it?"

He gave a rueful shrug. "No, only found it elsewhere. The angry warrior finally grew up...and realized that peace, like freedom, can only come from within."

He leaned forward quickly and brushed a kiss against her forehead, perhaps a kind of farewell.

When Chakotay pulled back, a glimmer of affection lightened his expression. But Kathryn sensed more keenly what *wasn't* there: Love, passion, hope---all the things discretion had forced her to ignore for so very long. Gone now. Probably gone forever.

She should be glad he had found his own path, one that didn't depend on her. Include her. But all she really felt was an ache, a prelude to loneliness and grief and regret. If she ever would let herself feel them.

In the wistfulness of the small smile he offered her, she saw the confirmation that there would be no more hints, no more declarations.

And no more possibility.

She turned away abruptly, putting all her concentration on the warp-distorted shapes of the stars. She felt him shift as well, to return to his own contemplation of them.

They stood in silence, side by side, mourning the loss of something they'd never truly had.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism is treasured as a rare gift.


End file.
